


The Wisdom or Stupidity of Protecting Strangers

by EnviousWriter



Series: Danger and Other Vices [2]
Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Mentioned Alex/OC, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:04:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnviousWriter/pseuds/EnviousWriter
Summary: Sequel to Danger and Other VicesMonths after Yassen came back for him, Alex stops a violent crime and suffers the vengeance of the perpetrators. Is help on the way?





	1. Chapter 1

Alex threw his bound legs furiously against the floor of the roughly covered metal boot. It had no effect against the metal or even the coarse lining but it bloody hurt and that alone succeeded in making him feel a little better. It had no effect on his feet, of course; they had developed a dull ache that was unaffected by his own movements, but it was an outlet for his frustration. The pain was sufficient punishment for his stupidity.  Not that he wasn't expecting some more considerable punishment to be dished out for him.  That was inevitable.  His captor would see to that.

How had he ended up like this? For four years he'd avoided all violence, crime and megalomania. He was stupid for falling back into old habits. And stupider for thinking he could avoid this world forever.  

And he couldn't even blame anyone this time.  This was completely his own doing.  He had decided to poke his nose in, knowing something wasn't right.  He could have called the police, he should have at least tried to contact Joe Byrne or Mrs Jones.

They’d been parked for ages now, the sound of the engine had died, leaving Alex wondering if they had stopped at a services or something. If they’d arrived at the destination, surely someone would have pulled him out of the boot by now. Surely.

The man with the too big forehead and chin who had tackled Alex to the ground and held him down, had not looked like the type of guy who could tie knots this well. He’d had fingers the size of sausages. Alex had assumed he was the brawn to someone else’s brain, until he’d done a series of knots that Alex couldn’t reach let alone loosen, in some frustratingly strong and unforgiving rope. Then Alex had decided he was possibly both brain and brawn. Or just unfairly gifted with knots.

Alex’s wrists were tied to each other behind his back. The rope that bound them then passed around his waist, holding his hands uncomfortably in the small of his back, and ensuring that the ends of the rope were well away from his fingers. It was infuriatingly effective. And painfully tight. In his mouth was a sponge, held in by duct tape that sealed his lips. He had to keep stopping his movements to move the thing, aware that suffocating was a real possibility, particularly if he panicked.

When his captor, Distorted-Features, finally opened the boot, he smirked. Alex held in his insults for when they would be heard. And for when he was feeling wittier.

“Come on, karate kid,” said Distorted-Features, grabbing the collar of Alex’s tee-shirt.  Alex was tugged along by the great fist, out of the car, over Distorted-features’ shoulders, so he was looking down the over-sized man’s back, at the concrete ground of an industrial area. Alex stored that information. “Had fun in the trunk, karate kid?” the older man asked, as he slammed the boot, and turned from it, laughing at his own joke. Alex wriggled as much as his bonds would allow. It didn’t seem to matter to Distorted-features.

“So,” said Distorted-features, as he carried Alex through the industrial sized doors of what had to be a warehouse. “Turns out you’re worth a ransom, karate kid.” He patted Alex’s bum, probably only to humiliate him. “That’s lucky, because otherwise you’d be part of a new patio we’re building for my boss.”

He bent over, putting Alex’s unsteady feet on the floor. Alex was ready to head-butt him while he was bending, but a rope had already passed over Alex’s neck, and with his hands tied behind him, Alex could not stop it tightening. He panicked, as Distorted-features made him stand upright, pulled taught by the rope on his neck. The rope on his neck fastened him to the support beam, but didn’t tighten further. Alex forced himself to calm down now he knew he wasn’t about to be strangled.

He was rearranged carefully by Distorted-features and his two bruised accomplices. All three seemed to take it personally that Alex had nearly bested them in a fight (seriously, Distorted-features should have gone down with the blow Alex gave him to the back of the head) and they were taking pleasure in the smacks they could give Alex as they bound him tight. Neck, arms, chest, waist, hips, knees and ankles all held him fast to the beam, and then the duct tape was applied to his fingers until he couldn’t move at all.

“So, we’ve called your boyfriend,” said Distorted-features. “It’s a good job we spotted that new iPhone and Rolex, or you’d have been missing a big bit of your brain but with a new bullet shaped hole instead.”

Alex rolled his eyes. He’d got the message about how close he’d come to dying. They didn’t need to keep going on about it.

“All this just for a girl.” Distorted features shook his head. “Did you even know her?”

Alex shook his head. It was the truth. She was just a girl. He’d spotted her at the bus station, looking around with fear bordering on terror. He’d seen her eyes widen and her attempt to run when Distorted-features and his friends had shown, and Alex had just done what came naturally. The girl had escaped. One of the reasons Alex had been captured was that he’d worked so hard to be sure she had.

“So, what, you’re just a psychotic kid who runs around interfering in other people's business?” Distorted-features sneered.

Alex shrugged as much as the bonds would allow. He probably was. No one had paid him to do that crap. No one had even blackmailed him to do it. He’d just seen a girl in serious trouble and acted on impulse.

Distorted-features walked around Alex, doing a poor impression of a Bond villain, making Alex roll his eyes again. He'd met dozens of better Bond villains.

“The boyfriend didn’t sound too bothered,” interjected one of the lackeys. He was sporting a black eye and some broken ribs, but turning his pain into anger, like all love-deprived wankers ever. He gave the rope around Alex’s neck an extra little tug. “Maybe he’s just not that into this fucker.”

Alex rolled his eyes again. Even though his breathing was hindered by the rope.

“Maybe we need to send a video to hurry him up,” suggested the third guy, who was limping and had blood all over his face from where Alex had given him a bloody nose and lip.

Goon number 2 seemed to think that was a brilliant idea. “Yeah! We could send it to the boss too! You know he loves a good bit of torture.”

Distorted-features stopped pacing and stared down at Alex. “What do you say, kid?” he asked, in a growl, “fancy a bit of torture?”

Alex rolled his eyes yet again. If they wanted a bit of desperate pleading they shouldn’t have gagged him.

“Take the tape off, Brant,” prompted the third goon. “I want to hear him beg us to not fucking kill him.”

Alex tried to widen his eyes, attempting to look innocent and scared rather than pissed off. Distorted-features must have believed the look, because he smirked, and pulled the tape off in one vicious move, which hurt!

“Well, kid?” Distorted-features prompted, “You gonna beg us not to kill you?”

Alex spat the sponge out of his mouth, and took a moment to cough through the build-up of gunk out and restore the saliva balance.

“Please,” he said, voice pathetic and croaky.

He saw the men smirk at each other.

“Please,” he said, “I beg you, please…”

Distorted-features folded his arms, triumphantly.

“Please,” said Alex, “Scratch my nose. It’s been itching for hours.”

“Fucker!” shouted goon number three, and punched him in the face. Alex laughed.

“So, torture porn for my boyfriend?” Alex said, “I don’t think any of you three have got the style for that shit.”

“Just you try us, fucker,” shouted goon number two, ready to do the same as his friend. Distorted-features put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“The camera ain’t on yet,” he pointed out.

“Yeah,” said Alex, “The boss ain’t gonna come to a picture of me afterwards.”

Distorted-features laughed. “Think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you?” he said.

“To be honest, right now, tied to a pole by three fucking idiots, not so much,” said Alex. “Still. You’ll be dead soon enough, and then I can pretend it never happened.”

Distorted-features’ face loomed closer. “If you think I’m as unimaginative as my friends appear, you will soon be disillusioned,” he promised.

And suddenly he was undoing the fly on Alex’s trousers.

“What the fuck?” Alex demanded.

“Well, presumably your boyfriend likes certain bits of you more than others,” said Distorted-features. He shoved Alex’s underwear aside, and tugged out his cock.  Alex found himself struggling without purpose, and managed to choke himself slightly against the rope around his neck.

“I’m gonna give you a choice, little Karate Kid,” Distorted-features said, smoothly, his hand intrusively on Alex’s private parts. “Beg to suck my cock and I won’t squeeze.”

The fucker, Alex thought. It was such a stupid demand. Begging to suck this idiot’s cock was such a pathetic small thing, but a squeeze, however painful at the time, wouldn’t kill him. It wasn’t even a test, it was just a fucking mind game. It was nothing.

“I’m not going to suck your cock,” Alex said, decisively.

Distorted-features squeezed. Alex cried out in pain. He’d expected a longer play than that, hadn’t expected the guy just to go for it. He'd seemed like the overly dramatic type, who would keep the threats going for a while.

“Some fucking pansy you are,” said Distorted-feature as Alex gasped for breath. “I thought you all just loved sucking cock.”

“I’m not … the guy… with my hand on another guy’s cock,” said Alex, bracing himself against the column. “And I thought you were waiting for the camera.”

“Yeah, well,” said Distorted-features. “I’ve got a video to plan.” He pulled Alex’s trousers down further, and the pants with them, leaving him bear from the bottom of his tee-shirt to his mid thighs. “And maybe some supplies to pick up,” the bully added. “I think a cock-shaped gag might be fun while I shove fucking ginger up your arse and whip your penis.”

“I heard better threats when I was a teenager,” said Alex, but it wasn’t believable because he was still reeling from the sexual nature of Distorted-feature's threats. He was probably lucky that hadn’t happened before. An athletic blond teenager could have made lots of money in certain circles.

Distorted-features shoved his fingers inside Alex’s mouth. “Look at the shit I can do to you while you’re tied up, Karate kid,” he said. “Learn some manners while I’m planning.”

He picked up the sponge from the floor and put it back in Alex’s mouth without so much as shaking it out. Goon number two re-taped over Alex’s mouth with new tape. Nobody pulled Alex’s trousers back up.

“Hey, do you think Gabriel will still want to fuck you when he’s watched this?” Distorted-features asked. He switched the lights off when he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Don't worry, Gabriel is just a plot device)


	2. Chapter 2

Alex had met Gabriel a few months before. He’d been going for an interview at an engineering firm that specialised in aeronautics, because it was a well-paid job and Alex had the grades and then some. Gabriel was the son of the CEO, and worked in HR. And Gabriel had pursued Alex with a singlemindedness that impressed Alex more than it should.

The interview had been weird. Gabriel had seemed more nervous than Alex, and the other interviewer had kept asking him if he was alright. It was unlike Gabriel to be nervous, apparently. Later, Gabriel had got cockier. He’d found Alex’s phone number and address in the company files and turned up in person to tell him he got the job, and that he was taking Alex out to celebrate. ‘Out’ was to a restaurant that had a 13 month waiting list, where they were sat between the Obamas and Robert Downey Junior. Alex had felt intensely uncomfortable for the whole meal, but then Gabriel had taken him to the roof terrace and asked him to dance to the live band that seemed to be playing only to them. Alex had agreed.

It had been fun. Since that night, Gabriel had bought Alex a watch, a phone, a tablet and a laptop, various items of clothing, a home cinema system and a mini-break to the Caribbean. It was a bit much, but Alex had waited months for someone else to intervene. Yassen hadn’t so much as called since he’d kidnapped Alex in New York. Apparently one hand job and one blow job had been enough. Alex was sure they’d both hinted there would be more. But then, Yassen had allowed Alex to believe him dead for 6 years. Maybe he really just wasn’t that into him.

Gabriel, however, totally was. Alex didn’t doubt that one photo of him tied to a pole with his cock hanging out and a rope around his neck would have Gabriel spending huge sums of money for his release. He wasn’t really that worried. Gabriel would cough up, then maybe these idiots would ask for even more, and then accept that Alex was worth more alive than dead. Who would have seen that coming?

…

Distorted-features and his companions left Alex alone for hours. He spent some of that time testing the knots, looking for weaknesses, but his hands couldn’t feel with the tape around his fingers, and he couldn’t reach most of them anyway. He dozed, standing up, but was aware that the rope around his neck could be dangerous if he weren’t careful. He probably could have done more to escape. He was genuinely curious as to how long it would take Gabriel to pay up.

Eventually, Distorted-features returned with a grin. Alex suspected he’d had a sleep, because he looked refreshed. He grinned at Alex, as though they were friends, and dumped a bag not too far away.

“Lights, camera, action,” he said.

Alex rolled his eyes hard.

Goon number two had his phone out, pointed at Alex, presumably filming already.

“Ready, karate kid?” asked Distorted-features, still grinning, as he sorted whatever crap he had in his bag. He pulled out a rope. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he said.

“Yeah, me too,” said goon number two.

Distorted-features was making a new knot with the rope. If he’d had use of his mouth, Alex would have teased him for needing even more rope, when Alex was already wrapped in so much. But then he recognised the shape of rope Distorted-features was creating. In moments, the thug held in his hands a noose.

Alex felt his heartrate rise.

“What, not so cocky now?” Distorted-features sang.

Alex couldn’t answer either way. That was almost a mercy. Distorted-features slipped the noose over Alex’s head and settled it at his neck.

“One little tug,” Distorted-features said, joyfully, tightening the loop. Alex could do nothing to stop him.

He pulled the tape from Alex’s face, and tugged the sponge out of his mouth. “No fun unless we can hear your gurgles, is it?” he said.

Some of the ropes that held Alex to the pole were released. His hands were rebound in the small of his back again, and once only Alex’s feet were still held on either side of the pole, the end of the noose rope was tugged upwards and thrown over a pipe in the ceiling. The rope was long enough that Distorted features caught the other end, and pulled until there was no slack. Then the other thug released Alex’s feet.

Alex tried to follow the tug at his neck, but there was only so far up he could go. He stood on his tiptoes, desperately trying to keep his airways open. He felt the hand back on his cock. Distorted features had tied the rope off to something, keeping Alex on his toes.

“Now are you going to beg to suck me off?” distorted features asked, with a wicked grin. “It would be fun… more fun than struggling for breath.”

“Fuck you,” Alex managed.

“Aw, poor baby,” said Distorted features, grinning at the camera, “Wants to stay pure for you, Gabriel. How long do you think he can hold out?”

His companions mock cooed.

“Couple of hours?” Distorted-features asked. He stroked Alex’s cock again, and if Alex hadn’t been terrified of falling over and dying, he would have kicked the bastard in the groin.

Distorted features decided that was a good moment to remove the rest of Alex’s clothes. The trousers were shoved roughly down to his ankles, and still weary of his breathing, Alex stepped out of them with little complaint. They pulled his t-shirt out from under the rope and inspected the firm skin of his belly.

“Oh, Gabriel,” said Distorted-features, “I totally get it. He’s like a blond, male Lara Croft.”

“Go fuck yourselves,” Alex managed. “You fucking… shitbags.”

“Oh, baby, I love it when you talk dirty,” Distorted-features laughed. He bent down, and Alex felt something fastening around his right foot. He tried to look down.

“This, little Karate Kid, is a spreader bar,” said Distorted-features. “This particular one is telescopic. I can fasten it to any width I like.”

Alex felt his left leg being tugged sideways and fastened to the other end of the spreader bar. Widening his legs made his shorter, pulled him downwards and pulled harder on the noose at his neck.

“That’s a nice balance,” said Distorted-features. “Now, let’s see how much it takes to make you fall over.”

He started on Alex’s nipples, pinching them hard, making Alex cry out. Then he pulled out an old fashioned cane and started on Alex’s arse.

“Oh, Gabriel,” Distorted features sang to the camera phone, and Alex wondered if this was a recording or a Skype session. “I hope you get here soon or his ass is going to be black and blue. He won’t be able to sit down for weeks.”

Then he started on Alex’s cock. 

Then he was shot in the head.

“Fuck!” shouted goon number two, but he was shot in the head while his mouth was still saying the k sound. The other goon didn’t even manage to get a word out.

Alex didn’t dare move. He doubted someone would bother shooting his captors in the head, then leave him there to strangle to death, but he couldn’t be sure.

Eventually, footsteps approached. They were slow, leisurely, and came from behind him. Alex tried to turn, but he could only edge around a tiny amount each time.

Yassen Gregorovich went to the camera phone first. It lay face down, recording the dark ground. He didn’t let it film his face, and shot the thing from feet away. It broke apart.

“Yassen,” Alex gasped.

“Alex,” said the assassin. “You told me you would not interfere with such things again.”

Alex’s first emotion at that was irritation. “Let me the fuck down!” he said.

Yassen did not rush to his aid.

“I am not happy, Alex,” he said. “I did not expect any part of the phone call I received yesterday. The whole this has put me in a foul mood.”

“Put you in a foul mood?! I’m fucking dangling from a noose!”

“Yes,” Yassen agreed. “And your boyfriend is paying me to rescue you.”

He was angry. So angry he was in no hurry to help Alex avoid strangulation. Apparently.

“I wonder, Alex, if you can guess which part of that annoyed me more?”

“Probably all of it?” Alex guessed. “But can we talk about it when I can breathe normally?”

“You are working for MI6 again?” Yassen asked.

“No!” Alex protested, “I just saw a girl being kidnapped and stepped in. You’d totally have done the same.”

“No I wouldn’t,” said Yassen. “I never interfere in other people’s business.”

“That’s fucked up, Yassen!” Alex cried. “She was, like, sixteen!”

“So you decided to behave like an idiot vigilante?” Yassen accused, “That was foolish.”

“She got away!” Alex replied. “I underestimated Distorted-features’ ability to get up after being knocked out.”

Yassen looked down at the dead body of Distorted-features. Distorted-features was never getting up again.

“And Gabriel De Vere…?” Yassen prompted.

“Yassen, please,” said Alex. “I’m going to fall over. Please…”

It was true. Alex was exhausted, and sad, and apparently no longer able to hold himself up. Yassen grunted and shot the rope that held Alex up. Alex fell to the floor, the noose still about his neck, his arms still tied, his legs still held apart by the spreader bar. Yassen made no move to catch him.

“Gabriel De Vere,” Yassen prompted, “The son of one of the richest men in the world, paid me an enormous sum of money, because….”

Alex flinched. He lay still, his legs held wide, his face to the side. “He’s my boyfriend,” he muttered.

Yassen didn’t reply. Alex wondered if he was stewing in his anger. It was totally unfair.

“You never even rang, Yassen!” he shouted. “What was I supposed to think?”

“I was being pursued by the Chinese intelligence service,” said Yassen. “It takes time to escape such people. I thought you would not appreciate them arriving on your doorstep.”

“Oh,” said Alex.

“Yes,” said Yassen. “He has fucked you?”

Alex nodded. Yassen sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said, “I never would have… I thought…”

“Thought what?” Yassen prompted

“I thought you didn’t want me,” Alex confessed. Maybe it was the noose, still heavy on his neck, that made him feel so vulnerable, like he could never withstand the interrogation. Or maybe it was the intense and unforgiving gaze of the Russian assassin. Whatever it was, he’d caved more easily than a sandcastle. His voice was pathetic and reedy, just like the words.

Alex instantly wished he could take the words back. He didn’t want Yassen to see him as weak, as pathetic. He wanted Yassen to know he was a fighter, that he could have withstood the bastards if he’d needed to, that he would have escaped by himself in no time.

He felt the assassin’s presence, heavy and so close. He couldn’t hear him breathing, nor any sound of movement. He lay still, tense and angry, for long moments, until he heard the unmistakable sound of a switchblade.

“You want to be punished for this,” Yassen said, quietly.

Alex tensed, ready for pain.


	3. Chapter 3

Yassen cut every rope on Alex’s body in a few deft moves. Alex sucked in a shocked breath, and turned himself over, staring at the assassin, with wide questioning eyes.

“I will not have you associate my actions with what these oafs tried to do,” Yassen said. “You have two minutes, and then we are getting into my car and driving away.”

He turned away. Alex took the hint, scrambling up to a standing position, righting his clothes and running a hand through his hair and over his face. Yassen was giving him a chance to reclaim some of his dignity. Alex was grateful for it.

“I’m ready,” he said, quietly. Yassen turned around, checked him up and down.

“You have no injuries?” he asked. “Except for bruising?”

Alex shook his head. He had plenty of bruising, but he was pretty sure he needed no medical attention.

Yassen took his arm in a strong grip, and lead him, without comment, from the building. Alex hadn’t had much of a chance to look, and he decided not to bother on the way out. The point was that he was on his way out. He was going home.

Yassen pushed him into a smart black Ford. It was comfortable but not noticeably expensive. Alex just let himself be moved, and didn’t say a word as Yassen climbed in on the driver’s side and drove him into the darkness surrounding the warehouse. They were probably still in California, just a more deprived area than the ones Alex had found himself recently since meeting Gabriel.

“How did you find me?” Alex asked, out of curiosity.

Yassen kept his eyes on the road to answer; “They called from the same mobile device twice. I was able to track the signal easily enough. I happened to be in California already.”

Alex’s gut twisted with guilt. “Were you coming to find me?” he asked.

Yassen didn’t reply. Alex might have believed he was focusing on the road if he thought Yassen couldn’t concentrate on as many things as he wanted to. He hadn’t said no.

“I thought you’d just left me,” Alex tried to explain. “It was months. I thought it didn’t mean anything to you!”

“You should not assume anything,” said Yassen. “You should find out for certain.”

“I had no way to find out for certain!” Alex protested. “You didn’t leave me a phone number! How was I supposed to find you?”

For a long moment, Yassen was silent. Alex knew he’d made a good point. But soon enough, Yassen said; “I didn’t know you were so impatient.”

Alex pulled a face.

“I will have to remember that,” said Yassen.

His voice made Alex shiver.

They drove for hours, down nearly empty country roads, the world outside so dark now that Alex couldn’t even guess where they were or where they were going. The odd sign pointed the directions to villages and small towns that he’d never heard of, but Yassen wasn’t heading for any of those. Eventually he pulled onto a dirt track, a long way down which, they stopped at a small house that might once have had status but now was so far from civilization that it couldn’t possibly be anyone’s home.

“Safe house,” said Yassen. “For the night.”

Alex nodded his understanding and climbed out of the car, an swallowed before he stepped towards the house. He hadn’t got far before Yassen stopped him.

He handed over a small bag. It was heavy.

“What’s this?” Alex asked.

“It contains some handcuffs,” said Yassen, stiffly. “You’re going to go inside, find the bedroom, and chain yourself to the bed.”

Alex looked at the bag, his insides a writhing mess. He wasn’t sure he wanted that.

“What if I don’t?” he asked, seriously, voice low.

Yassen put a hand on his shoulder. “Then I will sleep in a different bedroom.”

Alex let out a breath. It was OK. This was totally different to those men in the warehouse.

Yassen hadn’t finished. “And tomorrow I will drive you to Gabriel De Vere who I imagine is waiting for you anxiously.”

Though he flinched, Alex nodded, and gripping the bag in stiff fingers, he walked as confidently as he could manage into the house.

Inside, the house was surprisingly light and airy. It was obviously well maintained, and the walls and floors, in unobtrusive shades of cream and natural wood respectively, showed no hint of dust. But they held no warmth, either. It was blank and anonymous in a way that only an uninhabited home could be. 

The bag in his hand was heavy with meaning. The consequences of his next actions had implications for longer than just one night. If he rejected Yassen, would he be given another chance? Or would that be the last time he heard from the Russian? He knew, with a power of feeling that surprised him, that he wanted Yassen to be part of his life. It would never be a white picket fence, it would never even be a home, it might even be a very short time, but whatever Yassen was willing to give him would be enough for Alex. 

But the terror of the last few hours was enough that Alex couldn't stand the idea of being pinned to something. He had been unable to escape the pillar as the man had assaulted his genetles. He'd been unable to run as he was strangled, and dangled from the ceiling like a piñata. He couldn't chain himself to the bed. He would probably cry if he tried.

He couldn't take either of Yassen's options. He couldn't let Yassen feel rejected but he couldn't obey the instruction. So he had to modify the situation.

He found a bedroom on the 2nd attempt at a door, and shivered. It was a seductive mixture of excitement and fear. He knew with certainty that Yassen wouldn't hurt him, at least not more than he could handle, but his hands shook as he placed the bag beside the bed and then removed his clothes. The air of the room was cool against his skin, which was sprouting goose pimples. He opened the bag and removed just one item, then went to kneel in the middle of the room. His message to Yassen had to be unmistakeable. He couldn't risk Yassen thinking he didn't want him. The assassin found it too easy to hide.

Alex took a moment to steady himself, and then knelt in the space between the bed and the door. He was an unmistakeable shape for anyone looking in (and he'd left the door open invitingly). Then he closed the handcuff on his right wrist. 

His heart sprang up to his throat. He gulped it down, and put both hands behind his back. He closed his eyes, counted to three, and then snapped the cuff over his left wrists, trapping both hands behind himself.

He belatedly wished he'd put one of the pillows under his knees before he'd done that. 

The silence in the safe house was chilling. Alex shivered. He had bound his own hands for a man who maybe didn't want him, while a man who did want him very much had not so much as crossed his mind for hours. He was a mess.

Outside the window, an animal screeched. Alex flinched. He questioned his life choices.

The assassin appeared in the door way. He'd made his way to the room silently, as Alex would have expected. Alex looked up at him, his breath speeding up to the point of discomfort. Yassen stepped inside the room.

"This was not your instruction," he said.

Alex nodded. It wasn't his instruction.

"You are scared, because of what you went through today."

Again, Alex nodded.

"You know I am nothing like those monsters," said Yassen. "You would not have bound yourself if you did not know that."

Alex realised that Yassen was talking in statements, not questions. He didn't need confirmation from Alex.

"But you are not ready to pin yourself down." Yassen stepped closer again, and put a hand on Alex's cheek, which he used to stroke Alex's face, gently.  

"Stand up, Alex," he said, quietly. 

Alex obeyed, gracefully, anxious eyes on Yassen.

With as warm an expression as he was capable of, Yassen leant forward and pressed a powerful kiss against Alex's mouth.

Alex sighed into the kiss, finding himself dizzy with relief. Yassen wanted him. Yassen was here, taking what he wanted, and Alex wanted to give it.

Yassen pulled away just enough to speak. He was still so close, Alex could feel his breath as he spoke. "You are truly remarkable, little Alex."

Alex leant forward, hoping to reach for the kiss once more. Yassen stopped him with a hand to the chest.

"I was hurt to hear you had chosen to date someone else," said Yassen. "And I was angry. I should not let that colour my behaviour,"

"I thought you had left me," Alex explained, again. 

"I know," said Yassen, "And I understand. I'm not angry with you anymore. I was wrong to be angry with you at all." 

Alex pushed forwards again, pressed his lips to Yassen's. He wanted to throw his arms around his neck but couldn't, so he pressed his body as close as he could. Again Yassen pushed him away, halted the kiss.

"If I do not return you to Gabriel de Vere, my business will suffer."

It hadn't occurred to Alex that Gabriel would even be a part of the thought process now they were together again. 

"You're an assassin," said Alex. “I didn’t think customer relations was a bit part of your business.”

"And I am employed by the de Veres and their friends," Yassen explained. "It is only the super-rich who can afford an assassin, and there are only a small number of super rich. If I burn bridges with the de Veres, I will be unlikely to find employment in this country again. And I have reasons to want to enter this country as things stand."

"I could go with you," Alex suggested. 

"Maybe one day," said Yassen, "but now you don't really want to."

"I want you," said Alex, honestly. 

"And you want a life," said Yassen. "You cannot have that and follow me from place to place."

That was true, Alex conceded. 

“I haven’t decided what sort of life I want,” Alex said with honesty.

Yassen paused for a good long moment. “You want to try normal for a while,” he stated.

Again, it was true.

“You enjoy your job at de Vere’s company,” Yassen continued, “It is intellectually stimulating. You are flattered by the attentions of Gabriel de Vere, and the money he is willing to spend on your entertainment.”

Alex flushed, “I’m not a gold digger.”

“No,” Yassen agreed, “You did not seek him out, and are all the more flattered because of that. But there are things you do not know.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked.

“Gabriel de Vere is the kind of man who has an assassin on speed dial,” said Yassen.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

The penthouse suite was dark and silent. The stillness was total and somehow all-consuming. When Gabriel de Vere closed the door behind him, the sound could have been a gun shot.

It was not unusual for Gabriel’s home to be silent. He employed a maid, but her schedule was carefully worked out to never overlap with his presence, and his security would only enter if there were an emergency, so this space, his inner sanctum, was often silent until he chose to fill it with music, or with the chatter of friends or the latest of the beautiful creatures who came to visit.

What was unusual was the note pinned to the door with an inoffensive thumbtack. It contained three words that showed the silence to be a lie. ‘In the bedroom’.

Gabriel kept his shoes on, and felt his gun in its holster under his jacket. He aimed to move silently, though there was little chance the invader of his space didn’t know he had arrived. He clutched the handle of his gun.

The master bedroom was through a door to the right. There was a guest room, too, but Gabriel made an assumption. He put his hand carefully on the door handle, checking once again that his hand was ready on the gun. He opened the door.

“Alex,” he gasped.

The young man was prone on the floor, bound and helpless. He lay on his front, his arms held behind his back, and his ankles pulled up to meet them. A wide strip of cloth was between his teeth, and tied tight around his head, and also connected to his hands, forcing him to keep his back arched. He looked scared and he looked beautiful.

Gabriel managed one step towards the bound young man before he felt a gun against his temple. He froze where he stood.

Alex’s eyes were wide, and not looking at Gabriel. Whoever held the gun, whoever held Alex and now Gabriel captive was the sole focus of Alex’s attention. That was no surprise. Gabriel just had to figure out who it was.

“Whatever you want, I’ll pay,” he said.

A hand dipped into his jacket, and removed his gun. Gabriel internally scolded himself for being taken so foolishly.

“You don’t have to hurt us,” he tried. “Just let me untie Alex and…”

He didn’t want Alex untied. Alex looked like a fucking God. Or maybe a demon, brought down and entrapped and sacrificed to Gabriel’s needs. He was almost relieved when he was told “No.”

A quiet voice, and just one word told him little about its owner. Was this the man who had sent him the message? Was this the man who had threatened to do awful things to Alex? He wanted to kill that man, for daring to touch his property.

“My father will hunt you down,” Gabriel said. “You know who he is?”

There was silence from the intruder. Gabriel sneered.

“He is Anderson de Vere! He has put a hundred retard fucking wannabe gangsters in the ground, and you can bet your ass he will do the same to you unless you leave now!”

A silence met his words. The man who still held a gun to Gabriel’s head took a step closer until he was behind him. He leaned close to say, “I’d like to see him try.”

Then he was laughing. Alex was staring up at them, eyes wide as saucers. It took a moment for Gabriel to realise the gun had gone, and he spun to look at invader of his home.

A blond man, maybe mid-thirties but somehow ageless, with a slim body and cold eyes was putting a gun away.

“Who are you?” Gabriel demanded. He didn’t like being laughed at.

“You call for help and don’t know from whom you ask it?” the man asked, laughing again.

Gabriel flushed. “You’re him? Cossack?”

The assassin shrugged. “I brought back your toy, little boy,” he said. “Isn’t that what I was paid for?”

“Less of the little boy,” Gabriel snapped.

The assassin merely smiled at him. “You threaten me with your daddy?” he said.

“Don’t underestimate me,” Gabriel told him.

The assassin put his head to one side, then walked past Gabriel to where Alex was still bound and helpless on the floor. He turned Alex onto his side. The young man flinched when the assassin put a hand on his chest.

“Get your hands off him,” Gabriel snarled.

“But he’s very pretty,” said the assassin, “and you haven’t paid me yet.”

“You’ll get your money,” Gabriel snapped.

“Now,” said the assassin. His eyes were steely on Gabriel’s face, as his hand casually floated lower on Alex’s torso.

“Remove your hand,” said Gabriel. “Or I will kill you.”

The assassin halted in his movement. Then his hand moved again. But not away. It moved up until it covered Alex’s mouth and nose.

“Don’t make threats you can’t keep, boy,” he said. Then laughed to himself. Alex struggled in his bonds, his fingers scratching the air, in hopes of finding his bonds, his toes curling. Gabriel’s mouth was dry. He imagined it was his hand on Alex’s mouth, having complete ownership of the beautiful young man’s very existence.

“Stop,” he said. He was still angry but it was a plea. He couldn’t bear it.

“Money,” said the assassin.

Alex’s struggles weakened.

Gabriel took out his phone. “I’m doing it,” he said. He entered the details, he transferred the money. It took long moments. The assassin took his hand away, letting Alex gasp in a desperate breath around the cloth in his mouth, then replaced it.

“Look, look!” Gabriel shouted. The screen showed the success of the transfer.

The assassin nodded, and let Alex go. The younger man coughed, his whole body shaking. He couldn’t get a deep enough breath with his back arched like that.  He struggled. It was a sight unlike any Gabriel had ever imagined.

“Why the charade?” Gabriel demanded.

“Because I needed to be sure you’d pay,” the assassin replied.

Alex writhed, trying to get at least his head free of the bondage.

“I’d have shown more gratitude if you had given him a cup of tea or something,” Gabriel said.

“You’d have thought me weak,” said the assassin.

“I know what you do for a living,” said Gabriel. “What happened to the kidnappers?”

“Dead, of course.”

“Will the police come knocking after you’ve gone?” Gabriel asked.

“Why would they?”

“Will they?”

“No.” The assassin picked up his bag, as though he were dismissing Gabriel.

“Wait,” said Gabriel, “Who were they? What happened?”

“They died,” said the assassin. Then he left.

Gabriel tried to follow but a harsh groan of protest from Alex stopped him. He turned back and stared at Alex, the way his lips were straining against the tightness of the gag, the way his muscles were taut and defined. The assassin had done an incredible job of binding him. The tension of the rope that tied his feet to his gag, kept the material so far inside Alex’s mouth that he could never get it out, while making his feet useless to him. He couldn’t even control how he lay. And his bindings on his hands made him totally helpless. Gabriel wanted to have Alex bound like this every day, to show him off, so that everyone knew the power and grace that Gabriel possessed.

Alex moaned again. It was a plea for his freedom and was like music to Gabriel’s ears.

Gabriel stared for long moments, as Alex grew more desperate. He made more noise, struggled. Bright tears sprouted in his eyes, then trickled down his cheeks, like tumbling diamonds. Gabriel didn’t move.

“Ga’riel! ‘lea’!”

Poor Alex, Gabriel realised.

He turned quietly, away from Alex who groaned even more desperately. Maybe he thought Gabriel was leaving him bound, but he wasn’t. Gabriel walked to the kitchen, checking around himself in case the assassin had not quite left, and found what he was looking for. He returned to the bedroom with the kitchen knife in hand.

Alex’s eyes widened further. Gabriel shook his head. “Don’t be silly, Alex,” he said, “this is to cut the bonds.”

He stepped over Alex’s legs, and watched Alex quiver. He had to force himself to act, as calmly as he could. He knelt down beside Alex, noticing the young man flinch away but dismissing it. He sawed at the rope that attached Alex’s gag to his feet until it snapped. With a groan, Alex collapsed to the floor. Gabriel worked on Alex’s hands next, then his feet, before carefully pulling the gag out of Alex’s mouth.

Alex gasped in a deep breath and then coughed and coughed and coughed. Gabriel put a warm hand against his back and rubbed.

“It’s OK,” Gabriel told him. “It’s OK.”

Alex shivered. Gabriel admired his body, still stretched and quivering.

“Who was that?” he whispered.

“No one,” said Gabriel, “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you’re safe.”

Alex curled up, pulled himself away from Gabriel. “He said he worked for you.”

“I paid him to bring you back,” Gabriel told him. “He’s … he’s supposed to be the best.”

Alex stared at him, his eyes wide and bright. “How do you know someone like that?” he asked.

Gabriel flinched. He could talk about his father’s business, how they operated on both sides of the law, but Alex must have heard enough – more than Gabriel’s father would ever allow.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

Alex frowned. “Gabriel…”

“Alex,” Gabriel scolded. “You don’t need to know.”

Alex kept his keen eyes on Gabriel. He was not an idiot, Gabriel knew that from his academic scores and performance at work, but he didn’t need to be part of this. “You’re safe,” Gabriel repeated, “that’s all that matters.”

After a moment, Alex looked away. Gabriel wrapped both arms around him. Alex didn’t protest.

 


	5. Chapter 5

He’d booked the most exclusive and expensive restaurant in town. With the sheer volume of exclusive and expensive restaurants in that area, that was saying something. It was booked up for years in advance, and Gabriel had paid a very large bribe indeed to get the table, and still had to book in advance. It was to celebrate a month of Alex being home and safe, to talk about Alex meeting Gabriel’s family, and Gabriel meeting Alex’s. The date had been agreed upon, and was not clashing with anything, and Gabriel had ordered Alex’s superiors to take anything potentially problematic out of Alex’s hands so they could both be there. So Alex should have been there for the last forty minutes.

Gabriel checked his watch again, as a hopeful or curious waiter walked past once more, his judgemental eyes sliding over the empty chair. Gabriel stared resolutely past the nosy bastard. He was so busy staring at nothing that he didn’t notice his dinner guest until the man had sat opposite him.

Gabriel jumped a mile. The graceful, lithe form of the assassin was impressively unnoticeable, until one realises that a man who kills people for money is sat opposite one in a restaurant and not a single person has so much as glanced his way. Then it’s not impressive; it’s terrifying.

“You,” Gabriel gasped.

The assassin’s face was blank. Half paralysed, Gabriel wondered if he were there to murder him, and if so, who had paid him.

“Relax,” said the assassin. “You look like I’m about to kill you.”

“Aren’t you?” Gabriel managed, his voice choked and pathetic.

“Not today,” said the assassin.

Gabriel made a noise in his throat at that completely un-soothing response.

“I’m here about little Alex.”

Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat. “What’s happened?”

The assassin shook his head. “He’s fine, just got a little tied up. He’ll be here in no time I’m sure.”

Gabriel frowned. “Then…” He didn’t know what question he was asking. He hoped he didn’t need to ask it.

The assassin did not reply immediately. He was watching Gabriel’s face with an alarming amount of focus, while Gabriel’s anxiety was just building. Eventually the assassin sat back, and asked “How much do you know about him?”

Gabriel bristled. “Enough,” he said.

“Tell me,” said the assassin.

Gabriel pretended not to understand, but then he began to list the facts he knew about Alex.

“He’s twenty-three, he…”

“Wrong,” said the assassin.

“What?”

“You heard me. Continue.”

“Um, he graduated top of his class in NYU, he grew up in Surrey in England…”

“Wrong.”

“His parents died when he was a teenager, but they …”

“Wrong.”

“But they left him enough money to go abroad for school, so he went to Concordia…”

“Wrong.”

“Then transferred to NYU. Before that he went to a private school in…”

“Wrong.”

“Shut up!”

Surprisingly the assassin obeyed. It was his lack of argument that made Gabriel believe him.

“OK then,” he said. “Who is he?”

The assassin sat still for a moment longer. If Gabriel didn’t know better, he’d think the silences were a sign of stupidity. But he did know better.

“He did graduate from NYU. But none of the rest is true.”

“So who is he?” Gabriel growled, furious.

The assassin leaned forward once more, and once more let the silence ring. “His name is Alex Blake. He witnessed a murder near his home in Mayfair. His name has been changed. He is in a witness protection program.”

Gabriel glowered. “If that’s true, it’s understandable that he didn’t tell me.”

“If you say so,” said the assassin. “He put four members of the Bratva in prison. That’s the Russian Mafia.”

“Are you associated with them?” Gabriel asked, quickly.

“I work for whoever pays me most,” said the assassin.

“If they approach you, you come straight to me,” Gabriel told him. “I can pay more than them.”

The assassin nodded. “And what would you have me do with the MI5 and CIA operatives who constantly monitor Alex’s steps?”

Gabriel’s mouth dropped. “He’s … being watched?”

The assassin looked down.

“I suspect more so since the kidnapping. I understand that they were taken by surprise. They believed it was the work of the Bratva, but I knew it was not and so reached him first.”

Gabriel did nothing but breathe for a while.

“Do they… know about him and me?”

“I cannot be privy to exactly what they know,” said the assassin, “But we can assume that yes, they are aware of your relationship with him. I imagine Alex would see no reason to keep it to himself. He has been nervous since he was kidnapped.”

Gabriel’s train of thought changed. The assassin seemed to see it in his eyes.

“You understand why it is of concern to me,” he said. “And why I believe it would be of concern to your father, also.”

Gabriel nodded.

“But there is more that you need to know about Alex,” said the assassin. “I suspect it will make your next steps easier.”

Gabriel lifted his eyes once again. The assassin spoke quietly. There was pity in his voice.

“He is sleeping with somebody else.”

…

Alex arrived mere minutes after Gabriel’s uninvited guest vacated the seat. He was flushed. Gabriel imagined him being fucked by another man and scowled.

Alex apologised for being late. He did not apologise for sleeping with another man, or for lying about his whole identity. The assassin had suggested the other man was one of Alex’s protectors, presumably from the CIA. Gabriel saw a tired and crumpled man in a cheap suit pressing Alex against the backseat of a car. His fists were clenched.

“Are you OK?” Alex asked. “You look like someone’s upset you.”

“I’m fine,” said Gabriel.

Alex was wearing long sleeves. It was too hot to wear them. His shirt sleeves were crumpled. He’d had them rolled up for hours, until now, when he’d felt the need to cover his lower arms. Alex had shied from Gabriel’s touch since he came home, but he had marks on his arms from his other lover.

“I am so sorry I’m late,” said Alex, all a rush, grabbing water and a bread roll. “I was really looking forward to tonight.”

“I’m going to organise a vacation to the family island,” Gabriel found himself saying, “You’ll come won’t you?”

Alex blinked. “Oh, I …”

“I’ll make sure they give you time off,” said Gabriel. “You deserve a vacation after everything that’s happened.”

“Um,” Alex looked flushed, taken aback.

“It’ll be fun,” said Gabriel. “Just you, me, the beach and the ocean.”

“And running water and electricity, right?” Alex asked, with a laugh, stalling.

“Of course,” Gabriel told him. “Imagine a five star hotel, except there’s no other guests.”

Alex was thinking of excuses, so Gabriel said; “Good, that’s settled. We’ll go this weekend.”

Alex nodded, then took too big a gulp of wine. Gabriel sipped his slowly, and imagined being the one who marked Alex’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...


End file.
